


Unconventional Scientific Breakthroughs

by orphan_account



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F, Heavily So, Pretty Kinky, but not quite smut?, geneticist Moira, mid-transformance from Amélie Lacroix to Widowmaker, sexual content is implied, test subject Widowmaker, there's lots of touching though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-08
Updated: 2018-05-08
Packaged: 2019-05-04 02:20:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14582796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The controversial geneticist Moira O'Deorain is experimenting on the self-made widow Amélie Lacroix in the name of Talon. It's all very professional until they discover the way Amélie's altered body responds to Moira's touch.





	Unconventional Scientific Breakthroughs

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! All I really have to say is that this is my first time really writing something like this, it has not been beta-read, and I also don't speak any French. My deepest apologies for any discomfort reading my work that has been caused by any of the aforementioned factors.   
> I'm also not entirely sure whether this counts as AU because it's merely a theory that Moira was the one who turned Lacroix into Widowmaker, but it didn't seem far-fetched so I went with it.  
> I was going to write a full-on smut scene but then ended up deciding against it, because I'm a tease.

The footsteps of Moira O’Deorain’s long-legged stride approaching the door at the end of the hallway echoed from the tall walls.  
She turned the key in the lock, and the large metal door swung open.

The room inside was lit by blinding, sterile looking neon lights hanging from the high ceiling and filled from wall to wall with all sorts of medical equipment. In the centre of the laboratory stood a hospital bed surrounded by multiple ever-so-slowly beeping monitors.   
Their electrodes were connected to a pale silhouette in a hospital gown sitting on the gurney, only half turned towards the door as a reaction to Moira’s entrance.

“Lacroix. How are you feeling today?”, asked the Irish woman, focused on assembling the instruments she needed for the daily examination of her subject.

“I don’t feel. Isn’t that the point?”, the blue-hued female gave out passively.

“Now now, don’t get cocky with me. There’s no use. You will see in time what the wonders of Talon can do for you.. “, her low voice tutted while she was putting on her gloves. The loud snap of the rubber hitting her skin sounded unnatural in the otherwise almost deadly quiet room.

“For you. What they can do for you.”, Amélie corrected her. There was still not a hint of emotion in her statement. Her words were of bitterness, but her voice didn’t reflect it; she remained calm and cold.

The older woman shook her head with a dismissive smile, amused by the foolish French girl. If only she knew how much bigger this research was than she, or any one person, could ever be. Compromises regarding more old-fashioned ethical ideologies had to be made in order to truly make progress, even her critics and opponents secretly knew that. The difference was that the people at Overwatch were too short-sighted to take the risks, so they were never going to achieve anything grand.

“Your stance on our doings really has no effect on my research.” Moira proceeded to put on her lab coat and finally stood beside the unnatural looking woman. “Roll up your sleeves and sit up straight, please.”

Amélie Lacroix followed the instructions without hesitation, the chains tying her to the bed moving with a rattling sound. Her will to fight had been manipulated out of her, together with all emotion. She was merely numb to everything now.

“I’m going to draw some blood.” After the quick warning, O’Deorain inserted the needle abruptly, keeping a close eye on the younger woman’s physical reaction. There was none.   
The syringe filled up with a liquid that resembled blood, only it was much thicker and the colour was just a little bit off, a few shades too dark.

“Did you feel that?”, the slender female asked while eyeing the sample curiously. The fluid seemed to have changed in texture.

“No. I hadn’t realised you were already finished.”, she said, staring straight ahead. The French accent was still unmistakable in the words rolling off her tongue, but apart from that, the alien-looking woman had little in common with Gérard Lacroix’ trophy wife. 

Exactly as planned.

Moira felt satisfied with her work thus far. She went to check on the vitals the heart monitor next to the bed had recorded over the last twenty-four hours and then started taking off her gloves again.

“Well,”, the deeply voiced scientist exhaled, putting her left hand on Amélie’s shoulder in a rare gesture of kindness. “that should be enough for today, everything seems to be going exactly as we anticipated.”

But something in Amélie’s previously undisturbed body language had changed, she had jerked upright from Moira’s touch as if experiencing an electric shock - as if she had felt it.  
The geneticist furrowed her thin brows. “Lacroix? Did you feel that?” She slowly laid one finger on the subject’s shoulder, and once more the French girl winced at the feeling and backed away, a look of utter shock on her face.

“No, that’s impossible.”, she stammered. “I.. don’t feel. How did I feel that.”

An idea popped into Moira’s head. She took her right hand and laid it on Amélie’s blueish arm.   
No reaction. She then lifted her left hand, the one that emitted biotic energy, and did the same.

“There!”, Amélie shrieked. “Again!”

Intrigued by this new phenomenon, O’Deorain hurried to her notebook to write down the observations. “Well, this means… we’ve done so much more than we originally thought we did.. this could be groundbreaking..”, she absentmindedly muttered under her breath.

“No, come back!”, exclaimed Amélie on her gurney, “Do it again! Please, make me feel!”, something like desperation sounding from her voice for the first time.

Slowly, Moira turned around to look at her subject. 

“Please!”, the deadly pale looking girl repeated, “You can’t just.. remind me of what it’s like to feel and then take it away again!”

“Oh, I most certainly can.”, the scientist laughed cruelly, but in truth, she was considering experimenting further. Would this bring Lacroix’ body back to regular functioning? Would the effects last or just wear off after a while? There were so many hypotheses to test, and she could feel the well-known tingle of a new discovery, the only thing that truly excited her, in her chest.

She approached Amélie once again, relief appearing on the girl’s face with every step Moira took towards her. “Please touch me..”, she begged.

The older woman ran her long nails over the girl’s bare shoulder, watching her shudder with fascination. She writhed under the touch, emitting sounds that almost sounded like moans of pleasure.

Once again frowning, equally curious and confused, the geneticist asked: “How exactly does this feel, Lacroix?”

“Good.. so good..”, Amélie breathed, barely audible, clearly lost in the feeling somewhere.

Moira moved her hand to the more sensitive inside of the French girl’s arm and began putting pressure on it with her fingertips. “Does this feel better?”

The girl merely nodded, her gaze locked on the scientist in front of her. The beeping of the heart monitor increased in speed.

O’Deorain was already taking notes in her head about how the levels of sensitivity a regular person experienced still seemed to apply to her test subject when Amélie suddenly sat up in an attempt to reach for the scientist.

The taller woman had fast reflexes and was in the advantage of not being in chains, so she quickly subdued the younger one, enclosing her small wrists with long, slender fingers.

Moira’s eyes were fixed on Amélie Lacroix in front of her, now being positioned between the knees of the sitting female, taken by surprise at the sudden shift of events. It had been weeks since the patient had shown any signs of resistance to their testing, all spirit seemingly having been drained out of her.

But right now, Amélie’s eyes were ablaze with want and all fear of consequences for her actions seemed to be forgotten.   
“Please touch me more..”, she pleaded with the geneticist.

Overcome by her desire to research further, and by something else she couldn’t quite name, Moira began tracing the fingers of her left hand along the collar of Lacroix’ hospital gown, touching the soft skin around her neck and collarbone along the way. 

“Yes!”, exclaimed Amélie with relief, letting her head fall back a little. “C'est bien, s’il vous plaît continuez!”

In spite of not knowing much French, the meaning behind the words was clear to the slender scientist, and so she continued. She lifted the white gown just enough to let her hand wander up the sides of the body below her. Tracing the outline of each rib, then running her fingernails down the fragile ribcage again, she slowly inched her way up until she was just underneath where the younger woman’s breasts arose.

Moira hesitated, closely watching the expression on Amélie’s face, which had been distorted in pleasure. 

“Fais-le... Do it, please.”, the French woman whispered, squinting at the tall figure in the lab coat from beneath heavy lids.

Deciding that this would be interesting to review later on from a scientific perspective, O’Deorain obeyed the plea despite her pride. She did not like being told what to do, especially not by her test subjects, but Lacroix’ responses to her experiments were simply too enticing.

She cupped one of Amélie’s small breasts, feeling the younger woman shiver at the touch of her cold hand on the sensitive area. Taking note of the excited whimpers leaving the blue girl’s pale lips, she ran her thumb across an erect nipple and then quickly pinched it.

This made the subject arch her back and grip onto the gurney tighter, pushing her upper body as close to the geneticist’s touch as she could get from her position.

Once more Moira enclosed the nipple tightly between two fingers, surprised that there was still no utterance of pain from the woman below her. She was certain that she had long crossed the boundaries of what would have been pleasant for a regularly functioning person. To test her new discovery, she pinched again, harder.

Nothing but moans of pleasure erupted from Amélie’s chest, seemingly still not completely satisfied, still whispering “more”.

Deeply enthralled by this behaviour, Moira slowly retrieved her hand from the other woman’s breasts and moved it downwards, curious to explore the various reactions her body would have to being touched in other places.

“Go on please..”, the French girl sighed, raising her hips ever so slightly to make the implication unmistakable.

This was a line Moira had never crossed with a test subject before and under normal circumstances would not have been willing to, but something other than purely scientific curiosity was pushing her forward.

She raised the material of the hospital gown to reveal the white cotton underwear that was given to all patients at the facility. Amélie’s breath quickened as she eyed the tall geneticist above her, willing her to let her hands wander. 

First, the scientist teasingly moved her long-nailed hand along the sensitive skin of the petite girl’s inner thigh, her touch soft and flicker, there one second and gone the next, driving Amélie crazy with impatience. Her breath hitched in her throat.

A wet spot had formed on the subject’s undergarments, and Moira herself began to suspect a similar situation was taking place between her own legs, although she would never admit to it.

Finally, Moira broke the intense aura of anticipation by slowly running her left pointer finger over Amélie’s crotch, keeping her stare fixated on the younger girl’s face to catch any reactions. Her pale blueish eyelids fluttered shut and she tilted her head back, letting the breath she had been holding out in relief. “Please keep going..”

Encouraged, O’Deorain increased the pressure she was putting on the other woman’s crotch, moving her hand in a small circular motion. She took note of the expression of pure bliss on Amélie’s face as she slowly pushed the thin material of the French girl’s underwear aside. 

With fascination, she looked at the display of arousal in front of her. She hadn’t expected this emotion to be possible for their test subject at this point, but she was beginning to understand parts of the science behind what she was witnessing.   
The biotic energy her left hand was emitting was most likely temporarily healing Lacroix and in that, once again allowing her to feel every sensation a regular person felt, except they were heightened in contrast to the nothingness she had felt before. A truly captivating twist in their research that Moira would continue to focus on later.

For now, she felt obligated to continue her experiments with the test subject. It was simply what any professional would have done.


End file.
